


Ride the Sun Until Tomorrow

by Comicbooklovergreen



Series: More than One Kind of Soulmate [4]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Carol (2015), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Angst, Crossover, DC comics are a thing in the MCU okay?, F/F, F/M, Fight me on that, Mentions of previous works, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Stegginelli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-09-09 23:03:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8916544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comicbooklovergreen/pseuds/Comicbooklovergreen
Summary: Carol and Therese realize there's more to Angie Martinelli than sass and sunshine, and glimpse the darker side of being friends with superheroes. Their friendship may not survive the experience.Two unconventional families form an unbreakable bond. Tracing a friendship and a family through the years.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this one references events from my ongoing Stegginelli story, Three's Not a Crowd. Those interested can read the relevant chapter here.
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/3915364/chapters/8947411

Therese managed to get through just over twenty years without being stood up. She never imagined it’d be Angie Martinelli who would break that streak.

They were meant to have lunch during her break at the Times, but Angie hadn’t showed. Therese waited and worried and actually made herself late over it. Frankly, she’d expect this from Carol much more than Angie. Carol, prone to lateness and distraction beautiful and charming enough to get away with it. Angie though, Angie was punctual to a fault. Racing across the city and back for five auditions a day would do that, Therese supposed.

She called Angie back at the office, sneaking a moment of privacy after fetching coffee and layouts for her boss. Angie kept telling her it would get better, that paying her dues would pay off. Angie was on Broadway now, no longer auditioning for the bit parts and barely-livable wages she’d chased before Therese knew her. Therese thought of this often at work, used it to keep herself going.

The other line rang so many times she thought she’d missed Angie again. Angie did answer though. She sounded tired, worn. Angie could keep up with Lizzie and Rindy on their most rambunctious of days, better than anyone else. Including Steve.

Angie was horrified when Therese prompted her about lunch. She’d forgotten. Therese was relieved to hear she wasn’t sick, that Lizzie wasn’t, but that hardly dispelled her worries. Carol was far more likely to forget an appointment entirely, and that was rare even for her. For Angie it was unheard of.

Angie apologized. Over and over. Therese frowned as she listened to the sincerity of it, sincerity that sounded like more. She heard a crack in Angie’s voice, something that might come before tears and why in the world would Angie be this upset?

Therese told her several times that it was okay. She hadn’t gone out of her way, the restaurant was near her office, she’d still ordered, she wasn’t starving. She left out the part about being late, hardly noticing that her call was taking longer than she’d planned, that she’d be in trouble again if she wasn’t careful.

“I’m not angry,” she said honestly. “I was just worried.” She paused, debated whether she should say the next part. “I still am.”

She heard Angie sigh into the phone. There was the smallest of silences before she got any other response. “Nothin to worry about, kiddo. Honest.”

Angie and Abby (and dear God what had Carol been thinking letting those two meet?) both called her that, despite half-hearted protests from Therese. Angie in particular wasn’t that much older than her, Therese always said. But listening to Angie now, Therese felt very young indeed. Or maybe Angie just sounded older than usual.

“Honest?” Therese repeated without trying to hide her skepticism

“They’re closing the _Peter Pan_ show. If Rindy wants to see it again, you’d better be quick.”

Since learning Angie was the star, Rindy had begged her way into another showing countless times. The free tickets from Angie helped with that. She’d joked that Therese and Carol must be sick to death of seeing her in that costume by now, reciting the same lines, singing the same songs. It wasn’t true. Yes Therese could probably recite the play from memory by now, but she was never bored. Angie made each performance its own, brought something new to each repetition. Her passion was just as contagious as that first night, when the three of them had watched Angie light up the stage without knowing what would come later.

Therese couldn’t believe all that was ending, not when every show she took Rindy to was packed, when the audience seemed to respond with such enthusiasm every time. She told Angie as much.

“You ever been to a TV studio?”

This was not the response she’d expected. “Not that I can remember,” she said like it was something to forget.

“You want to?”

“Want to what?”

“See a TV studio.”

Angie still sounded worn, not especially happy, though Therese sensed she was trying to hide it more now. Therese herself was just confused.

“Some TV guy got the rights to do _Peter Pan_. We’re shooting it live. Regular production is being shelved so we can prepare, figure out how it’s gonna go.”

Therese was momentarily speechless. “I…you’re going to be on television? Angie that’s wonderful!”

“Yup. Nothing confirmed yet, but there are whispers about the original show and the Tony’s. People are saying I might be it for best performance.”

Therese felt herself smiling, desperately happy for her friend. She’d smile wider if Angie didn’t talk about a Tony award as if it were a consolation prize, a nickel she’d found in the street after walking home in a downpour. “Angie, that’s amazing!”

“Mmm.”

“Peggy and Steve must be so proud of you,” Therese said carefully.

“Not unless one of them picked up long range mind reading powers. They’re gone.”

“Gone?”

“Working.”

“Oh.” Therese was no mistaking the edge in Angie’s voice, the bite lacing that one word. Usually Angie mentioned if one of them had left town. ‘Working’ was a catchall term for anything that was dangerous and classified and none of their damn business. “I didn’t know they’d left.”

“Yeah.”

“How long will they be, do they think?”

“Who knows? Until the job’s done.”

Therese swore she heard a sneer there, “How’s Lizzie?”

“Fine.”

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Oh.”

It was silent for a moment. Therese heard Angie sigh into the receiver. “Sorry, Shutter. Actors, we have these moods, you know?”

Therese wanted to tell her that photographers had moods too, everyone did. “It’s okay.”

“No, no it’s really not.”

Therese didn’t think Angie was talking about just this, this odd conversation. “Angie—”

“Sorry about lunch, doll. We’ll do it up right next time, I’ll make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to make up for anything.”

“Are you at work? You must be, it’s still early. Did you sneak off to gab at me on office time?”

Angie’s voice held something of the usual teasing and it made the worry knotting Therese’s body loosen slightly, even as she blushed at being caught.

“Get your cute little ass back to work before the meatheads find you. And don’t tell Carol what I said about your ass, Carol’s kinda scary about you. I’ll make up for lunch.”

“Ange—”

Angie hung up on her.

* * *

 

“We were in the neighborhood,” Carol said the next day, laden down with two bags of groceries while Therese carried another.

“In the neighborhood,” Angie echoed. “Have to drive over an hour to get to Jersey from your neighborhood, Jersey.”

“And now we’re in the neighborhood. Did you think we weren’t going to celebrate your accomplishment?”

Angie gave Therese a look. Therese returned it with a shrug and a smile. “You did say you’d make up for lunch. Let us make you dinner.”

Before Angie could say anything, Lizzie was at the door, ducking past Angie to throw herself at Therese. “Auntie Carol, Aunt Therese!”

Therese hugged Lizzie as best she could with her free arm. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Where’s Rindy?” Lizzie asked, looking past them toward their car as if they might’ve left her friend there.

Carol smiled softly. “It’s a weekday, Rindy’s still with her daddy, her grandparents.”

“Oh,” Lizzie said, face falling momentarily. “But you can still play with me, right?”

“If your mama lets us in, says it’s okay.”

Angie rolls her eyes at Carol’s smile. “Come on, baby. Quit choking the life out of Aunt Therese and let’s help with these bags.”

The resulting yell of delight was ear-splitting.

“Dirty play, Jersey,” Angie said, taking one of Carol’s bags and one from Therese as Lizzie ran off to ‘get ready to help in the kitchen.’ “Using my kid against me.”

“I’ll use whatever works when you stand my girl up and forget how to use a phone,” Carol said lightly.

“Your girl?” Therese repeated, not sure if she was touched or mortified.

“It won’t do to forget the little people, Miss Martin, at least ‘til you’ve actually got that Tony.”

Angie rolled her eyes again. “Don’t call me Martin in my own home, Carol. And if you mess up my kitchen, you die.”

“Noted.”

Therese chuckled at the banter, the use of Angie’s stage name. Another reason she and Carol hadn’t known right away about the connection to _Peter Pan_.

Therese found herself checking around as she walked the familiar rooms, sweeping them with her eyes. She didn’t know what she was looking for, didn’t find it either. Nothing seemed terribly out of place or unkempt. If Angie was down (and hadn’t she mentioned something called ennui and “getting a little blue sometimes?”), it didn’t seem to be affecting the house, or Lizzie.

By the time Therese entered the kitchen, Lizzie had pulled herself onto a stool there and was talking a mile a minute while sifting through the contents of the bags Angie put down.

“Did you bring anything good? Mommy and Daddy left forever ago, but they always bring me something back.”

Angie gripped one of the bags a bit too hard, causing a small tear. “They’ve been gone a week, not forever,” she said. “And if they bring back more of those chocolates, no inhaling the whole box again.”

“Are they bringing the chocolates back, Mama?”

Lizzie practically bounced in place and Angie tweaked her nose gently. “Maybe, maybe not. Your guess is as good as mine, sweetheart.”

Therese glanced at Carol, wondering if she was imagining that edge of something in Angie’s voice. She wasn’t, judging by Carol’s look.

“I hope you’re not planning to make Italian,” said Angie. “If you show up unannounced and take over _my_ kitchen thinking you’re going to make Italian—”

“Chicken pot pie,” Carol said, then asked Therese cut up some vegetables for her.

Angie muttered something unintelligible, apparently out of threats for the moment.

“There’s wine in here somewhere,” Therese said, rooting through one of the bags. “If you’re interested.”

“Why not? Nothin says I can’t drink.”

“Can I have some?” Lizzie asked.

“Of course. You can have all you want of this wine right here.”

Angie went to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of something that looked like lemonade.

Angie’s less than hospitable mood thawed slightly as the minutes passed. She apologized again about yesterday afternoon and Therese waved it off. Still, it felt odd sitting down to eat with just Angie and Lizzie.

“Well, to you,” Carol said, raising her glass in Angie’s direction. “To all your well-earned success.”

“Congratulations, Ange.” Therese smiled, clinking her glass with Angie’s.

“Is this because Mama’s getting on TV?” Lizzie asked, using both hands to touch her cup of lemonade to their wineglasses.

“It’s because we haven’t heard from you two in awhile, and we missed you,” Carol said.

“And yes, because Angie’s going to be on TV,” Therese added.

Angie rolled her eyes while helping Lizzie cut her chicken. “Don’t even try with that one. She couldn’t be less star-struck if she tried.”

“Are you gonna be on TV with Superman, Mama?”

Angie smiled, sighed. “No, munchkin. I already told you, Superman isn’t usually part of the Peter Pan story.”

“But Peter’s not usually a girl and you’re in it,” Lizzie pouted.

“I’ll meet with the producers once we get going and see what I can do, okay munchkin?”

“’Kay.”

“Superman?” Therese echoed, trying not to smile.

“Uh-huh,” Lizzie said, nodding hard as Angie sat back in her own chair. “He’s on TV and he gets bad people and he’s a hero and he flies!”

“Your mama flies too,” Carol pointed out. “Peter Pan’s always flying.”

“That’s why he should be in Mama’s show!”

“I finally get a lead where there’s not a man hogging all my thunder, and my own kid wants to change that. Of course.”

“Your parents are heroes too,” said Therese, pausing in thought between bites. “Isn’t that other show on around the same time as Superman? _Cap_ —”

“ _Captain America Adventure Hour_ ,” Lizzie finished without missing a beat. “Mommy and Daddy won’t let me watch it, or hear it on the radio. Mommy says it’s sac…sacro…”

“Sacrilege,” said Angie. “A woefully inaccurate portrayal of events that paints those involved as ridiculous, cartoonish figures.”

“That,” Lizzie said, accidentally smearing gravy on her face. “That’s what Mommy says.”

Therese frowned. “Cartoonish figures? Isn’t that show an actual—”

“A real cartoon? Yes, yes it is. Peggy thinks it’s slander.”

“But Mommy’s not here.”

Angie put a hand to her heart, made a show out of checking the room. “So she isn’t. Wipe your face, kid. If you’re going to manipulate me, you’re not gonna do it while wearing your dinner.”

Lizzie wiped her face, managed to make the mess worse, and gave her mother a pleading, doe-eyed look.

Muttering something in Italian, Angie used her own napkin to clean Lizzie up. “You can watch the show tomorrow if you finish all your supper tonight.”

“Really?”

“Really, really. If you finish everything Aunt Carol made for us.”

Lizzie nodded and said thank you to everyone, including Therese who hadn’t done more than cut a few vegetables. To make up for this, she insisted on cleaning up after dinner (though Lizzie’s plate was remarkably clean already).

“If you insist,” Carol said, pressing her lips to Therese’s hair.

“I can help!”

Angie looked at her daughter. “You do realize I already said you could have the forbidden fruit.”

“Huh?”

Angie shook her head. “Shutter, you good watching her for a bit?”

“Always,” said Therese.

Angie smiled her thanks, addressing Carol. “Come on, Jersey. You and me have business upstairs.”

* * *

“I thought you didn’t smoke,” Carol said, lighting Angie’s cigarette anyway.

They were on the balcony upstairs. The door was half-open and she could hear Lizzie and Therese puttering around in the kitchen if she tried.

“I smoke on special occasions,” Angie corrected, repeating what she’d told Carol when they first met.

“And this qualifies?”

“Shouldn’t it, my TV debut and all?” Angie asked, exhaling a ring of smoke into the night.

Carol hummed, noncommittal. “You also said smoking’s bad for your voice. Yes, I do pay attention. So, since you’ll be taking the national stage in a few months, I have to wonder about the timing.”

Angie exhaled again, resting an arm across the balcony railing.

“Is it because they’re gone?”

Angie’s laugh wasn’t the usual one. “Those two bein gone is hardly a special occasion.”

“My mistake.”

Carol waited, lighting her own cigarette and banking on Angie’s general dislike of silences. She shouldn’t have been surprised when that got her nowhere, This wasn’t an Angie she knew how to deal with it. “We just worry,” she said finally. Then, softer, “Them being gone doesn’t mean you’re alone.”

Angie sighed, toyed with her cigarette without looking at Carol. “Peggy got shot a few years ago, After Steve thawed out, before Lizzie. Did we ever mention that?”

“You didn’t,” Carol replied, stating what they both knew. “I’m sorry.”

Angie shrugged. “Hazard of the job. It’d happened before then, during fighting time with Steve and the boys, but this was different.”

“Different like worse?”

“Different like worse. Guy shot her twice, right before she was supposed to take a meeting in D.C. Unconscious for days, whole thing was touch and go. Steve and I camped out at the hospital, Howard threatened to burn it down if she died.”

Carol tried to imagine Therese like that, Rindy. It hurt too much. “Who shot her? Why?”

“Those answers are above civilian clearance level. But Sousa—another guy at SHIELD, he briefed us when we got there—Sousa said something about a metal arm.”

Unsure what to say to that, Carol chose silence.

“Anyway. They never caught him, but Steve promised me he would. Idiot.”

“And that’s what he, what they’re doing now?” Carol guessed, a sick feeling settling in.

“Yup. He almost killed her last time, so sure, let’s try that again.”

Carol reached out, squeezed Angie’s free hand over the railing. “It’s different though, isn’t it? They must be more prepared this time if they’re the ones going after him. And Steve’s with her.”

Angie made a rough noise in the back of her throat. “Yeah, great, Steve’s with her. Because that solves everything. Steve’s the idiot who crashed into the ocean and disappeared for three years, I’m sure he’ll keep things under control.”

“Angie…”

“Steve’s not the only one with her, Carol.”

Before Carol could ask, Angie snuffed out the rest of her cigarette against the railing. She’d smoked down to the filter and turned slightly to face Carol better.

“Peg’s pregnant. Light me another, wouldja Jersey?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry. Basically this was meant to be done after Christmas and then Carrie Fisher died after Christmas and I moved and everything got a little crazier than anticipated. And, yeah, so sorry. Next chapter will NOT take so long.

“Pregnant.”

It was Therese who repeated the word, like something foreign and unheard of. She’d set Lizzie up with a puzzle and the record player, and now sat with Carol and Angie at the table. “She, she’s pregnant and she took a mission?”

Angie shrugged. Her fingers shifted in agitated patterns. Carol had cut her off from cigarettes. “Depends who you ask.”

Therese looked at Carol, saw her confusion mirrored. “I don’t—”

“She says she isn’t. She’s been sick and the smell of the paint Steve was using the other day made her sicker, but she says she isn’t. She’s late, but she says it’s stress.”

Carol and Therese exchanged another look. Carol spoke up. “You don’t think it is?”

“Peggy’s whole damn life from the moment I met her has been stress, it’s always stress. Bit of a convenient time for it to be getting her physically, getting her like that.”

“Convenient?” Therese asked.

“She wants this guy. Badly. So yes, convenient.”

“Because he shot her,” said Carol.

“No, not just that. Don’t ask me, I don’t know, but there’s something else. She said Steve can’t be trusted on this.”

Therese frowned. “She said that to you, Steve can’t—”

“She said it in the pretty, polished, diplomacy way she has when she’s talking around me to avoid something. Or talking down to me.”

Carol glanced at Lizzie with her puzzle. Superman of all things. “Does it matter what she says or doesn’t say?”

Angie laughed, a hard, bitter sound out of place from her. “All that matters is what Peggy does or doesn’t say.”

Carol took a breath, closed her eyes a moment. “I only mean making sure. It’s simple enough to know one way or the other if—”

“She took a test. No results yet, at least none I get to know about. Time sensitive, she said, whatever this guy is doing, she doesn’t have time to wait, he only hits the radar once in a blue moon, blah, blah, blah. And because no one’s said she is and ‘she knows her own body,’ she’s not.”

“Steve,” Therese said after the brief silence that followed. “If Steve thought she was carrying his child—”

“Steve is SHIELD. Steve is Peggy’s employee. And Steve,” Angie shook her head, voice softening just slightly. “And Steve…somethin’s wrong there, she’s not lying about that.”

“But you think she’s lying about other things.”

Angie laughed again at Carol’s comment. “Peggy lies about other things all the time. That’s what Peggy does, that’s how it is. Peggy is always lying. Steve too, to a point, but he’s bad at it so it has to be Peggy.”

Therese watched Angie’s eyes go to Lizzie, linger on the puzzle, the red and blue of the uniform. She didn’t know what to say, wasn’t sure she’d be brave enough to try even if she did. Thankfully it didn’t matter. Carol took over, took Angie’s hand and told her things. Angie said she needed a smoke and a drink, Carol said she’d get the drink if she took a bath first, a long one. They argued and Therese found herself with Lizzie again while Carol half cajoled, half forced Angie upstairs.

She was supposed to be helping Lizzie with her puzzle, though honestly Lizzie didn’t need it. Mostly Therese sat on the floor with her and handed out pieces when asked. She was quieter than usual, apparently concentrating on her task. It was a good ten minutes before she said anything beyond asking for this section or that.

“Is this what it’s like when you make your pictures come together?”

Therese smiled a little though she didn’t think Lizzie was really looking at her. “Sort of. I’ll show you sometime, if you like.”

“Yes please.” Lizzie’s tongue poked out as she concentrated on fitting a piece of red between two others. “Mama’s sad.”

“Is she?” Therese tried to keep her voice even, neutral.

“Yup. Sad and mad and sad. Mommy and Daddy are sp’osed to say bye to me when they leave, if they can. Sometimes they can’t.”

“And did they this time?”

“Nope. Don’t think they really said bye to Mama either. Mostly it was yelling.”

“Oh?”

“They thought I was sleeping and they were yelling quiet but I wasn’t and they weren’t.” Lizzie finally looked up from her puzzle, lowered her voice. “Well, they kind of were but sometimes I hear better than other times. Sometimes I hear better than they think.”

Therese thought about that, about the serum, about the record that was playing when they talked earlier and Lizzie sitting here quiet the whole time.

“Rindy says her parents yelled a lot. Then they weren’t her parents anymore.”

Therese sighed, closed her eyes, missed Carol desperately. This was too dangerous for her, Carol should be here for this. “They’re still her parents, Lizzie.”

“But not the same, they don’t live together anymore.”

“No, no they don’t.”

“Now you live with Aunt Carol and Rindy doesn’t all the time and that’s why she can’t play with me more.”

Therese knew she should say something, correct something. Except none of it was wrong and Lizzie didn’t sound particularly upset and was back to working her puzzle. “Yes.”

And that was it. Lizzie finished and let Therese give her a bath and got two bedtime stories out of her before Therese stood firm and told her to sleep.

“Are you and Aunt Carol staying, are we having a stayover?”

“I don’t know, sweetie. We’ll see what your Mama wants.”

Lizzie shrugged and yawned. “You should have a stayover, Mama’s sad. The big kind of sad she gets sometimes and I can’t fix, and Mommy and Daddy can’t fix either, but usually one of them is here to keep the sad from getting too much bigger. I think Mommy told Mr. Jarvis to do it, Mr. Jarvis is always here more when they’re not, but he can’t really fix the sad. And Mama already told Mommy how it doesn’t matter what she wants anyway, so you should stay over.”

Lizzie rolled over and cuddled her teddy bear, effectively ending the conversation. She didn’t ask for Angie to come say goodnight, didn’t ask if Angie would. Therese kissed the curls that were so much like Angie’s, adjusted the blankets switched off the light, shutting the door behind her. How much noise would it really keep out?

She hadn’t seen Carol or Angie since they came up here. If Carol did manage to coax Angie into that bath, she’d finished it before Lizzie had hers. It took a bit of searching before Therese heard the voices in the guest bedroom. Carol’s voice, she realized. Carol talking and Angie crying.

Therese debated for long moments, finally risked turning the knob. She barely opened the door, just enough to see Angie curled in on herself, sobbing into Carol’s shoulder. The extra blanket that usually stayed at the end of the bed now covered both of them.

“It’s not fair,” Angie choked out.

“No, it’s not.”

“She almost died last time. I only got in because of Steve. You don’t think those results are back, after this long? They’re back, and I can’t know. I might never know, if—”

Carol hushed her, rocked her softly, said something Therese couldn’t catch.

“He died already. In every way that mattered, he might as well have died. And he killed part of her right along with him, more than she’d ever admit. I saw it, how destroyed she was. Even after we were together there’d be times. He crashed that plane and took some of her with him.”

“He came back though,” Carol said, pushing strands of Angie’s hair from her face. “He came back.”

“Yeah. And what should I do with that, huh? If he ever goes away again, stays away, if they both do. What do I tell Lizzie, who’s just going to keep waiting and waiting for him to ‘come back,’ like before? How long do I let that go for, Carol?”

Carol pulled Angie closer. “I don’t know, darling, I’m so sorry I don’t know.”

“I’m not Peg. I can’t, can’t lose both of them on some stupid goddamn suicide mission and just go on. And she…damn her. Goddamn her this time.”

Carol murmured things Therese didn’t quite hear about Angie and how strong she was. Then Carol looked up and saw Therese and so did Angie.

Angie tried to pull away from Carol, Carol didn’t seem to be letting her. “Hey, Shutter,” Angie mumbled. “This uh, not what it looks like.”

Therese stepped properly into the room at Carol’s soft smile, much more convincing than Angie’s. “Looks like you needed a hug and a nap.”

Angie made a strangled noise that couldn’t realistically be called a laugh. “Alright so, what it looks like then.”

Therese walked carefully to the bed, climbed in on Angie’s other side. It was too much like seeing Carol cry in her apartment that first time and not knowing how to help, how to fix anything. Angie always seemed to have kind words, the perfect words when Therese needed them, and here Therese was with nothing. She rubbed Angie’s back and felt it shudder under the strain of more tears.

“I can’t do this,” Angie gasped. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“Angie…”

“I can’t, Carol. There’s, maybe there’s a reason most people have just one person. One hurts enough, let alone two.”

Angie went silent then except for her tears. Therese held her as best she could, felt how hard she shook. She closed her eyes, fighting her own tears, felt Carol’s hand reach around to tangle with hers. They listened and held on as Angie cried.

* * *

 

Edwin arrived at the house with his usual selection of fresh groceries. It was rare for Miss Carter and Captain Rogers to depart at the same time, but when it happened his task of looking after Miss Martinelli and Miss Elizabeth became that much more important.

He knocked several times before hesitantly making use of his key. The things he’d borne accidental witness to before weren’t likely to be happening with two of three out of the country, but one really never knew.

He realized almost immediately that something was wrong. The bin in the living room where some of Elizabeth’s toys were left was half-empty. The curtains were drawn, something he should’ve noticed before. The house was too cold. He took the groceries to the kitchen and found spoiled milk in the fridge.

Feeling very much the intruder and with a mounting sense of dread, Edwin headed upstairs. The closets in the master bedroom were open, had clearly been looked through, there were clothes on the bed.

Two of the suitcases were gone, two in a matching set Miss Carter had sent back in ’47, a gift he’d seen to personally.

“Oh dear.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While things in this series are planned out to a certain extent, I'm always anxious to check out prompts. Hit me up on Tumblr if you're so inclined.
> 
> http://cblgblog.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter wait this time, but I still apologize for it. And for anything else that may or may not have happened here.

“Would you stop that, you’re not the housekeeper.”

Angie scowled at Carol, made a show of straightening the last pillow on the sofa. “I’m crashing here. Crashers help out.”

“You’re a guest,” Carol corrected with a huff, “and you—”

“Have a kid that doubles as a hurricane.”

Carol waved a hand. “At least half that mess is Rindy’s, they can both clean it when they get back.”

“Small children as labor. Wouldn’t have thought it from you.”

“Take the damn shower you said you were taking fifteen minutes ago. And for God’s sake don’t be so obsessive about the towels.”

Angie waved and walked off down the hallway and may have flipped Carol off, it was too fast for Therese to see as she looked up from sorting photos on the kitchen table. “You do realize you’ve been having the same argument for three days.”

“Hmm?”

Shaking her head Therese stood, joined Carol at the sink where she was rinsing dishes. “Same argument. Over the pillows, the towels, the dishes, the dusting, the—”

“She’s here to rest, not pick up after us. If we wanted a maid we could hire a damn maid.”

“You know we couldn’t. A stranger in here, the one bedroom that’s not a kid’s, the—”

Carol turned enough to glare at Therese. “You are deliberately missing the point.”

“Oh am I?” Therese asked, matching her tone. Then she splashed Carol with a bit of water from the sink.

“You should’ve gone to the park with the other children.” The arm Carol hooked around Therese’s waist to pull her closer didn’t match the words.

“Why would I do that when the two children here now are just as entertaining?” Carol pinched her side for that and there was a light skirmish until she ended up with both Carol’s hands around her waist, leaving damp fingerprints on the back of her shirt. “Let her clean, maybe it’s coping.”

Carol sighed. “She shouldn’t have to cope, not with this.”

“No,” Therese said carefully, “she shouldn’t. But have you thought that maybe you’re a little close to it too?”

Carol’s baffled look was answer enough.

“A child, even one that may not be there, taken from one parent by another, no choice in it for Angie or the baby?”

Carol made an annoyed sound and handed Lizzie’s plastic cup to Therese to dry. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

“You’re deliberately missing the point.”

“This is not the same thing.”

“No,” Therese said. “It isn’t.”

Carol went quiet after that, only handing her dishes to finish. Therese sighed and took the silence, the distance for ten more minutes, until there was a knock at the door. Taking escape where she could, Therese crossed the apartment quickly, then lost her breath a moment when she opened the door.

There were Steve and Peggy, looking tired and like they’d rather be somewhere else, but there. Steve had a line of stitches running halfway across his forehead.

“Therese,” Peggy said. “Sorry to drop by unannounced.”

Therese waved that off. “It’s nothing. You’re back?”

“That we are.”

“I’m glad,” Therese said. “How, how are you?”

“Fine, fine, always. Would you happen to know where Angie is?”

“She’s here,” Therese said quickly, despite the ease Peggy seemed to have asking the question. “They both are. Well, Lizzie’s at the park with Rindy and Abby but…”

She saw a small relaxation in Steve’s shoulders at the same time a muscle clenched in his jaw.

“Getting spoiled rotten no doubt,” Peggy said. “I don’t suppose we might come in?”

Therese apologized and stepped back, watched them both as they studied the room littered with toys that weren’t all Rindy’s, Lizzie’s cup on the counter by Carol. When Carol turned to greet them, the usual warmth was decidedly lacking. She used the same tone she once had when they’d run into an old business acquaintance of Harge’s and been forced to say hello. Peggy’s response remained polite but distant. Steve just nodded in Carol’s direction.

“Work go well?” Carol asked after she’d offered them something to drink and been turned down.

“Well enough,” said Peggy.

“Find who you were looking for?”

Therese gave Carol a look, which was ignored. Something flickered over Peggy’s face for half a second, then disappeared. Steve was pretending to study one of the photos on the table, and bending the edges. Peggy crossed to him, squeezed his arm and he put it down. Therese noticed then that Peggy was limping a little, favoring her left foot.

“There’s always someone else to find,” Peggy said. Then she studied the photos too and pretended to care what was in them and asked Therese about the paper.

That farce lasted a few agonizing minutes before Angie’s voice drifted in through the hallway, warning Carol they were almost out of shampoo. She was dressed in loose clothes, damp hair wetting the back of her neck, very much the opposite of the Broadway star Angela Martin was fast becoming. She froze when she saw they had company.

The emotions that flashed across Angie’s face were too many and too fast for Therese to even begin to decipher. She saw relief there somewhere though, amidst all the others.

“Hello, my darling,” Peggy said, crossing to Angie and taking her hands.

“You’re back.”

Peggy smiled softly. “Indeed.”

“Are you okay?”

“Always.”

Angie stared. “You’re limping.”

“It’s nothing.”

“When, when did you get home?”

“Not long ago.”

Therese wondered if she was imagining it, imagining the ‘You weren’t there’ hanging in the room. She didn’t think so.

Angie looked past Peggy to Steve standing a few steps back. “What happened to your head?”

“Nothing. It’ll heal soon.”

“Whole lot of nothing, huh?”

Steve went to Angie. His arms wrapped around her and stayed there. “Don’t ever do that again.”

His voice came low and muffled against Angie’s shoulder. It was hard to tell whether that was possessiveness or protectiveness.

“Steve.” Peggy said.

“You didn’t leave a note,” Steve said, pulling back.

“No? Thought I had.”

Therese shot Carol an uncomfortable glance. She wasn’t sure if Angie was acting or not, and Carol’s face was impassive.

“You didn’t,” Peggy said. “We looked. So did Mr. Jarvis.”

“Oops.”

The muscle in Steve’s jaw became more prominent.

“Do you know when Abby might be back with the girls?” Peggy asked.

“Why?”

Therese shot Carol a look at the question, the tone. “Carol—”

Her warning went incomplete. “Because we’d like to see our daughter and get home,” Steve said with nothing beyond civility.

“We’ll be out of your hair when Abby gets back,” said Angie.

“That’s not necessary,” said Carol.

“It’s fine, Jersey.”

“Is it?”

“You didn’t leave a note,” Steve said again, an odd mix of anger and desperation. “You knew exactly what that would do, and you still—”

It was Angie who tensed this time, stood taller despite being dwarfed by him. “You two love a mystery so much, and obviously you figured it out, what’s the problem? Don’t like how it feels, not knowing where your family is? Join the club.”

“Now you’re just being petty,” Peggy said.

“Sure, you can call it that.”

“I’m sure I can, by any definition. We left because we had to, to protect people, save lives. You walked out with our child and not a clue as to where you were going, if you were safe, just to hurt—”

“Is she our child now?” Angie asked. “Because she came from Steve and I, from my body, so is she really _our_ child?”

Therese wondered if her mouth was hanging open, felt her stomach roll. The only thing that shocked her more than Angie’s words was Peggy’s reaction.

Peggy closed her eyes a moment, her expression betraying her emotions while her voice stayed calm. “You know I didn’t mean that. You know—”

“I know. I know you’re unbelievably cold sometimes and you’ll say whatever you need to to shut me up, push me away. Not fun, is it?”

“Angie…”

“You didn’t’ have to go. You have a whole agency of people handpicked to do this shit for you, it didn’t have to be you this time.”

“Yes, Angie, it did. This time it did.”

“Why?”

Peggy didn’t answer. Carol laughed softly, a hard edge to it.

“Something funny?” Peggy asked.

“Not remotely. You two abandoning half your family and putting the rest of it in danger to chase a personal vendetta isn’t funny at all.”

“Carol!” Therese said, actually yelled this time.

Peggy’s laugh in return was decidedly colder. She ignored Angie’s words of intervention the same way Carol had Therese’s. “A personal vendetta, is it?”

“Looks that way, yes.”

“I’m sure it does, to the ignorant, the uninformed.”

“Where do you get off, dragging your child, her child into a warzone?”

Peggy’s eyes flashed. “I suggest you change the subject.”

“To what, your wife? How decimated she’s been since you—”

“Decimated? Angie is alive, as is Therese, as are you and your child precisely because Steve and I go into those warzones. I assure you, you know absolutely nothing about decimation, about the costs we and others have paid so you don’t have to. So you can be safe to stand here and spout nonsense.”

“What about your family? What about that cost? Do you have any idea what your wife, your child have been through while you—”

“I do not. I’ve been busy preventing war and death on a massive scale while you’ve done, what exactly? Sold a few coffee tables?”

“Helped your family. Helped them because you weren’t.”

Therese knew it’d gone too far, truly knew, when Steve stepped forward after staying mostly in the background as this train wreck unfolded. The blue of his eyes was icier than she’d ever seen it.

“Enough,” he said, standing to his full height in front of Carol.

His voice was even but dangerous and Therese must’ve been right in her sense that there was more going on here than she thought because Peggy put a hand on his arm again.

“Steve.”

He shrugged her off without losing Carol’s gaze. “You don’t get to talk about personal vendettas.”

“No?” Carol asked, showing no sign of intimidation as he towered over her, just at the edge of invading her space. “Why not, because Captain America’s above all that?”

“Peggy was nearly killed. We nearly lost her. Of course I wanted the person who did that, who hurt her. Which I don’t expect you to understand, since you’re the one who hurt Therese, decimated her, so what would you know about wanting to protect the people you care about?”

Therese’s eyes widened along with Carol’s. She opened her mouth, about to tell him off for dragging her into this absurdity, but Steve wasn’t done yet.

“Abandonment, coming from you? You left your husband, your child, and then you left Therese. But you, you want to talk about _my_ family, the people I love?”

“I left my husband, my marriage,” Carol said, her voice gone too low, eyes too bright. “But I never, never left Rindy.”

“No? We’ve been gone how long, a couple of weeks? Is that how long you knew Therese, or was it less?”

“I—”

“You want to talk about my child, my children? When you willingly gave yours up. For a fling?”

The crack of Carol’s palm seemed deafening as it connected with Steve’s cheek. There was a bad, horrible moment when Therese thought Peggy was going to do something on instinct, something to hurt Carol. It didn’t happen. Steve touched the red mark on his face, though Therese seriously doubted it could’ve hurt him.

“Enough!” Angie shouted, stepping between all of them and voicing what Therese couldn’t make pass from her brain to her lips. “What the hell is this? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The question wasn’t addressed to any one person. Nobody answered. Therese had time to share a wild, incredulous look with Angie before hearing footsteps in the hallway, small voices made too loud through excitement and sugar, probably. Abby’s voice came through the din and then her spare key was in the lock.

Lizzie was instantly ecstatic, all shouts of Mommy and Daddy and if she noticed the red mark on Steve’s face she didn’t show it. Rindy, frankly was only slightly less excited to see her aunt and uncle.

“There’s my beautiful, darling girl!” Peggy exclaimed, all traces of who she’d been five minutes earlier gone as she lifted Lizzie up. Therese thought she saw Peggy wince when Lizzie’s legs wrapped around her but it was hard to tell in the chaos. Steve took her though, swung her up to rest on one of his strong arms.

It went on like that for awhile, a mess of hugs and greetings. Smiles were held in place though Therese worried over the look in Carol’s eyes when Rindy threw herself against Steve’s back.

“You’re back, you’re back, you’re back!” Lizzie chanted, hugging Peggy again while Rindy giggled.

“Always,” Peggy said. “Did you have fun with Rindy?”

Lizzie nodded enthusiastically, gave a long but rapid-fire explanation that ended with, “And we had the best sleepover ever, and Auntie Carol helped us make brownies yesterday, and Aunt Therese read me stories every night, Mommy!”

“She did? Well that sounds absolutely marvelous, sweetheart.”

Rindy tried getting them to stay longer, but put up relatively little fuss when they declined. Carol was mostly silent, but took the hug Lizzie gave her with the warmest of smiles. No one talked about the suitcases, the toys Lizzie was leaving behind. Lizzie threw herself at Therese before leaving, hugged her hard.

“Daddy, Aunt Therese still has to show me how she makes her pictures, she promised she would.”

Steve’s smile was strained at the edges. “That’s great, baby. Maybe next time, okay?”

“’Kay.”

Therese kissed Lizzie goodbye, wondered if there would be a next time.

Carol sent Rindy to wash her face with a wry observation that she’d brought most of the park home with her. Then she hustled Abby out before questions could be asked. They talked briefly and Abby scowled, making a promise to call later sound vaguely like a threat. Then they were alone.

“What the hell was that?” Therese said, voice low. She could hear the sink running in the bathroom.

“Hmm?”

“What were you thinking?”

Carol’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t put this on me. Those two were beyond out of line.”

“And you were what?” Therese shook her head, threw up her hands. “Do you feel better now?”

“Fantastic,” Carol drawled, crossing her arms. “What do you want me to say, Therese?”

“You slapped Captain America.”

“Captain America is an asshole.”

“And you’re what right now?”

Carol’s gaze hardened further. She opened her mouth to say something but Rindy emerged from the hallway, attaching herself to Therese’s side.

“Aunt Therese, can we play trains?”

Therese kept her eyes on Carol a moment longer. “You want to play trains, do you?”

“Yes!” Rindy said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Well I don’t think there’s any room for the tracks in here,” Therese replied, tearing her gaze from Carol’s and making a show of examining the room. “I think we have to clean up all these other toys before we can play anything else, don’t you?”

Rindy pouted but agreed, taking Therese’s hand. Therese felt Carol’s stare burning into her long after she turned her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, whatcha think? Is Peggy pregnant? Was she pregnant? Did something unfortunate happen? How much do you all want me to die? Lemme know in the comments or at my Tumblr lair.
> 
> http://cblgblog.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

Two days later and Therese hadn’t heard from Angie or the others, hadn’t expected to. Two days later and it still made no sense to her, what happened in their living room.

It was easy enough not to deal with it when Rindy was there, but now Harge had taken her until next week. Therese stayed in her darkroom for that, knew Carol didn’t like it. Didn’t like the idea of Therese hiding away in her own home, their home, just because of Harge.

She wasn’t hiding from Harge this time.

She remained in that room longer than usual. Things were simple there, the low light, the chemicals Therese knew exactly how to use to make things show up, be clear. The world outside that little space was something else entirely.

Therese didn’t see Carol immediately, felt guilty for feeling glad about it. She showered to purge the heaviness, the confusion, but it didn’t work. When she got out, her robe was folded carefully by the door, waiting for her. Therese hadn’t put it there.

Carol was sitting on their bed with a tray of tea waiting on the nightstand.

“I’m sorry, my dearest.”

Therese tied the robe tighter, perched on the other side of the bed. “What are you sorry for?”

Carol laughed without humor. “I was a brute, horrible.”

Therese took a breath. “So was he.”

“Come here? Please?”

Crawling the rest of the way onto the bed, Therese settled herself next to Carol, accepting the tea offered and smiling inside when Carol stated the obvious, told her to be careful of the heat as if the idea of Therese burning her mouth was simply intolerable.

“I don’t understand what happened, Carol.”

“With me or with them?”

“Both. But you’re here to talk to and I don’t think we’ll ever fully understand them.” She didn’t think they were allowed to, that they’d ever have the clearance.

Carol sighed, kissed Therese’s head and visibly relaxed when she was allowed to wrap an arm around her. “You were right, as usual. Young and brilliant and me a bitter old woman.”

“Stop,” Therese said the same way she always did when Carol got to pretending she was ancient.

“You were right, though. I have Rindy now, sort of,” she added with a rueful twist of her mouth, “but I still saw her being taken away.”

“Steve and Peggy didn’t take Rindy, Carol.”

“I know, I know.” She shook her head. “Something just…the lawyers, darling, you can’t imagine. Called me a danger to my child. Meanwhile those two are putting theirs in real danger and hiding behind patriotism to do it. I was…I got angry.”

“I can’t imagine what the lawyers said because you never tell me,” Therese said quietly.

“It doesn’t matter, Therese.”

Therese reached around Carol to set her cup down, made sure she had Carol’s gaze. “It matters. Obviously it still affects you so, so it matters.”

Carol smiled but looked away. Therese still didn’t know enough about everything that happened to Carol during their separation, wondered if she ever would. Sometimes she thought she knew just a bit of what it was like being with Steve and Peggy.

“They’re good people, Carol, you know that,” Therese said.

Carol ran her fingers along Therese’s palm, warmed by the tea. “I do. I know that.”

Therese swallowed. She was the one to look away this time, studying their joined hands. “You didn’t, you didn’t get really angry until Steve said those things about us, you and I and Rindy.”

Carol studied her. “Of course I got angry. He had no right, I don’t care what outfit he wears or how many lives he might’ve saved.”

“No. But are you sure, are you sure he wasn’t right? Even though he had no right, are you sure he wasn’t…”

Carol shook her head. “Therese, I don’t—”

“What he said about giving up Rindy for me, for a fling,” Therese said, the last word tasting sour in her mouth. “Technically he’s not, not wrong.”

Carol continued to stare. “Technically, he’s very wrong. Technically he was a complete idiot, even if that’s not his natural state.”

“Are you sure? Are you sure it didn’t hit you like it did because, because he was right?”

“What could he possibly have been right about?”

“You. Giving up Rindy for me, for us. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t worth it.”

Therese felt Carol’s eyes burning through her. Then there was a hand on her cheek, on both of them, Carol cupping her face just firmly enough that she couldn’t pull away.

“Steve was wrong,” Carol said, calm and even. “I was wrong too, but he was definitely wrong about this.”

“Carol—”

“I did not abandon Rindy. I did not give her up. You should know that by the mess of her toys still sitting in our living room.”

“It’s not the same. It’s not what you could’ve had if…” Therese trailed off. This wasn’t something they talked about, not usually.

“Don’t do this,” Carol told her. “Don’t you hurt yourself taking responsibility for my choices.”

“Are you saying you don’t regret them? Never?”

Carol closed her eyes a moment, rested her forehead against Therese’s. “I regret that some things happened the way they did. I regret the pain we all went through. You, me, Rindy, even Harge. And yes I want Rindy, I will always want Rindy. I’ll always hope that things…” Carol stopped, took a breath. “But I have never and will never regret you. I’m not capable of it. And I will not apologize for not choosing to live as half a person.”

Therese felt Carol’s breath on her skin, smelled the faint, lingering scent of her perfume. She sensed that Carol meant it, every word. She thought of Peggy, wondered if this was something like what Peggy felt for Angie and Steve when she’d considered choosing between them. Would making that choice have turned her into half a person?

Carol kissed her softly. “Is that really why you think I reacted so badly?”

Therese shrugged, helpless under the intensity of Carol’s gaze.

Carol sighed, kissed her forehead. “I hurt you. Decimated you, so Steve reminded me. I didn’t abandon Rindy but I did abandon you. That, he was right about, and that he was slapped for.”

Therese shifted enough to look at her properly. “Carol that…it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It will always matter, darling.”

“I forgave you. I forgive you.”

“And I love you for it.” Carol smiled, ran her thumb along Therese’s bottom lip. “I love you for so many things. But it doesn’t change what happened, what I did.”

Therese pulled Carol into a hug. “Nothing changes what happened, any of it,” she said, ghosting a kiss to Carol’s cheek. “I still forgive you; I did that a long time ago. You have to forgive yourself now.”

“I don’t know that I can.”

Therese held Carol tighter. If Carol couldn’t forgive herself, what were the chances of the five of them forgiving each other?

* * *

 

She buried herself in work the next few days, tried not to think of her personal situation. Her not-thinking was derailed in the middle of the week when someone yelled at her to answer the phone.

Carol was the only one who really called her here, so it was Carol’s voice Therese expected. “Hello?”

“Hey, hotshot.”

It wasn’t Carol, but certainly wasn’t unwelcome. “Angie?”

“How you doin, kiddo?”

She couldn’t even bother fretting at Angie for calling her that again. “Not great. You?”

The answer didn’t come immediately. “Better than last week. What time do hotshot photographers get to duck out for lunch?”

“I’d have to find one and let you know.”

“Smartass.”

Angie asked again what time she could leave.

“I said I’d make it up to you, didn’t I, standing you up for lunch?”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I think it is,” Angie said quietly. “Please?”

And that was that.

She met Angie an hour later at the place they were meant to eat in the first place. Angie was not Carol, was not late, was already there when Therese arrived. Therese thought Angie must’ve already been in the city when she called, but was afraid to ask. She hated that she was afraid to ask.

She noticed that Angie didn’t give her one of those almost too tight hugs, hoped it was because of the other diners. She relaxed slightly when Angie squeezed her forearm over the table, quick but hard. And hidden by some folding trick Angie did with her napkin. Therese marveled again at how good her friends were at hiding things.

Were they still her friends? Angie was here, at least.

Angie apologized, like she had after forgetting their previous lunch date.

“There’s no need.”

“Oh there’s a need. Our…things shouldn’t have affected you.”

Therese apologized too, then asked, despite her fears. “What, what things, Angie?”

A waiter came, interrupting them. Therese wasn’t hungry and when she didn’t order enough, Angie ordered for them both.

“I’m going to take care of one of you, damn it,” she muttered, so quiet Therese might have made it up.

Angie said that Steve and Peggy’s “business trip” had gone “kind of bad,” something Therese had puzzled out on her own.

“Are they okay now?” she asked, remembering Peggy’s limp, the stitches along Steve’s forehead. She’d never seen Steve with a visible injury before.

“Getting to okay,” Angie said, sipping from her water glass.

“Are you?”

“Getting to okay,” she repeated.

Angie said there were some things no one had planned for on that business trip. She didn’t elaborate and Therese couldn’t tell if she was choosing not to or if she didn’t have the details herself.

Therese didn’t ask about the baby. All she could hear in her head was Angie saying Peggy wasn’t pregnant. Peggy said she wasn’t, so she wasn’t, the bitter way Angie said that when she and Carol had sat at Angie’s table. All she could see was that maybe-grimace Peggy had when Lizzie wrapped her small legs around Peggy’s waist.

Therese didn’t ask most of the questions she wanted to. Angie was so talkative, straightforward, almost too much so at times. If Angie wasn’t bringing something up, that wasn’t an accident. Though Therese was realizing more and more that Angie wasn’t the smiling, open book Therese first thought she’d met.

It was Angie who swore under her breath and pointed out the time. “You probably have to get back.”

Therese checked her watch. They’d past “half to get back” fifteen minutes ago. “No, I have time.”

But Angie smiled knowingly at her, was already waving down the waiter. “Uh-uh, no more slacking off, Shutter. I won’t be responsible for some fathead boss giving you hell.”

Therese tried to argue when Angie took the bill, but Angie wouldn’t hear of it. They’d provided room and board, she said, and they’d cooked for her at her house that night.

“I got this one,” Angie said.

“Lizzie’s cup is still at our house.” It wasn’t what she meant to say, not that Therese knew exactly what she’d meant to say, but it wasn’t that.

Angie frowned.

“Her drink cup, the plastic one.” She remembered washing it with Carol just before Steve and Peggy arrived, before things blew up. It wasn’t the only thing there, most of what Angie came with still remained. Yet all Therese could think of was that cup.

“That would explain all the broken glasses.” Angie sighed. “I’ll—”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Therese blurted.

Angie’s frown deepened. She sat forward in her chair. “What are you talking about, Shutter?”

“I don’t, I don’t want to lose you. Any of you.”

It irritated her, how young she sounded, how she still couldn’t say what she wanted to. That Carol had Abby, had someone who’d shared so many things with her. Therese never had that, that kind of friend. She’d never had many friends at all and though that had changed somewhat with Dannie, Louise and Phil, it was different with the other three. Angie and her loves were older, closer to Carol’s age, and Carol had lost most of her friends after the divorce. The trio though, they had a child, they understood what it was to live differently. Carol needed people like that.

Except it wasn’t about Carol, not really. It was Therese and her hunch that if they lost this relationship they’d lose something important, that Therese would. Like she would’ve lost if Carol hadn’t left her gloves.

“Oh honey.” Angie squeezed her arm again. “What makes you think you’d lose us?”

Therese stared, wondered if it was a trick question.

“I’m tougher to lose than a bad rash. Not going anywhere.”

“Steve and Peggy?”

“Steve…that A of his doesn’t always stand for America.”

Angie mouthed the word “asshole” and Therese laughed in spite of herself.

“He wises up eventually though, and he already feels bad. He,” Angie faltered just a moment. “He feels bad about a lot of things right now, but this is right up top of the list. And he doesn’t give up on people.”

“Peggy?” Therese asked quietly.

“Peggy already admitted that we were all ‘a load of bloody wankers’ that day. She’s dealing…we’re dealing with some things, but no one’s losing anyone.”

Therese sensed there was more to it than that, there had to be. What was she supposed to say to it?

“Few bumps in the road doesn’t mean leaving, Therese.”

The use of her name caught Therese’s attention. She looked at Angie and thought Angie saw too much. The tears, the yelling over the phone to people she didn’t know before her mother dropped her at the school and never came back. The girls who would cause too much trouble there and be gone suddenly. Carol going away in Waterloo, going away without her this time.

Therese thought irrationally that Angie saw all of it, understood it all. But how could she when she’d told story after story about the seemingly endless cast of characters that was her relatives, her family?

Therese didn’t know. She knew that Angie hugged her before they parted, long and tight and heedless of anyone passing them on the sidewalk outside the restaurant.

“Just a bump, Shutter,” Angie whispered in her ear before letting go.

* * *

 

It was a slow day at the shop, and Carol hated that more than usual. It gave her too much time to think.

While Abby did inventory in back, Carol surveyed the empty store from behind the counter, though her mind was somewhere else. On Madison Avenue, in their apartment, where Angie and Lizzie’s things remained. Carol wondered if she should drop them back herself, maybe with a bottle of Schnapps added. Would she be welcome? If she simply had them sent over, there would no longer be a reason for Steve, Peggy or Angie to come back.

The bell above the door rang. Looking forward to the distraction of a customer, Carol froze when she saw who it was. As if summoned by her thoughts, Steve was on her threshold.

He’d been so stiff when she saw him last, seeming to tower over her. He wasn’t like that now. Carol had a hard time deciding what he _was_ like. The most obvious difference was the stitches, or lack of them. He healed fast. Carol wished other things did too.

“Hi,” he said softly, approaching the counter.

“Hi,” Carol repeated, feeling stupid, unprepared.

He looked around the store and asked if a certain dining set was new. She said it was. He said he liked it Carol said she’d gotten a deal on it from a little seller out of Boston. Steve nodded, said he liked it again. Carol asked if he was in the market for something.

“Not exactly,” he said, “not right now anyway.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the blonde strands that always looked so perfect in the papers, the news reels. “Angie said she had lunch with Therese the other day.”

“I heard.”

“Therese said there’s, there’s some things left at your place. Angie’s things, I mean.”

There were a lot of things left at her place, unfinished and unfixed. “A few. I can send them over, if you like. Or—”

“Lizzie won’t stop talking about the pictures,” Steve blurted. “Therese’s….I guess she told Lizzie she’d show her how pictures are developed. She thinks it’s magic.”

“Therese’s pictures are magic,” Carol said fondly, unable to help herself.

“They are,” Steve said. He took a breath. “I had no right.”

“You didn’t,” Carol said. She remembered suddenly how she’d felt when Therese said no to her at the restaurant, finally said no. She thought she’d lost everything, her child and her love. She remembered the long winter nights, coming home to an empty house. Just as empty as the one Steve and Peggy would’ve come home to. At least Carol had known what hell to expect all those nights. “Neither did I.”

“Lizzie misses Rindy.”

“Rindy misses Lizzie.”

She’d laugh at a different time over how childish this all sounded, how all they could do was mirror each other.

Steve breathed deep enough that his broad shoulders rose and fell with it. “I wondered if I could get your help with something.”

No more mirroring then. “Oh?”

“Don’t need a dining table yet but, but I could use a cradle.”

Carol was sure she lost the careful neutrality she’d tried to protect herself with.

“It’s early but,” Steve was babbling into the silence. “Early’s better than late. And I learned with Lizzie that I’m better at painting nurseries than building cradles. Or even choosing them.”

Carol forced herself to speak, forced back everything Therese said or hadn’t said about her lunch with Angie, the topics never broached. “Shouldn’t, shouldn’t Peggy be here too?”

“She’s fine with me getting a head start on my own, Angie too. They know enough not to trust my judgement but they trust yours.”

He held her gaze. Carol took a shaky breath of her own and smiled as she walked around the counter.

“Let me show you what we have.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again this took way too long and I’m sorry. I was working on getting an original short story published and it sort of ate my brain. Also, I just suck. I know last chapter was rough and things aren’t exactly resolved here, but I didn’t feel they could be within this particular entry and what I wanted it to be about. I kind of went for the Carol ending here (not at all comparing myself to Patricia or Todd by the way). Hopefully you came away with a sense of possibility, the beginning of healing rather than the end. Thanks for waiting this out with me. The next installment is written almost completely in my head, and shouldn’t be a multi-parter so shouldn’t have a lag time when it does show up.
> 
> Thoughts and feedback always appreciated, I’ll see all you lovely people next time.

**Author's Note:**

> I continue to sub in Angie Martinelli/Martin for Mary Martin and her experiences playing Peter Pan, both on Broadway and television.
> 
> While things in this series are planned out to a certain extent, I'm always anxious to check out prompts. Hit me up on Tumblr if you're so inclined.
> 
> http://cblgblog.tumblr.com/


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